Week One
by badly-knitted
Summary: A quick and not exactly serious exploration of Ianto's first week at Torchwood Three, written for a prompt at fic promptly.


**Title:** Week One

**Author:** badly-knitted

**Characters:** Ianto, Jack, Tosh, Owen

**Rating:** PG

**Spoilers:** None really

**Summary:** Ianto's first week at Torchwood Three.

**Word Count:** 644

**Written For: **juliet316's prompt 'Torchwood, author's choice, Torchwood' at fic_promptly.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.

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One his first day at Torchwood, Three, Ianto was introduced to his new colleagues, to varying degrees of a complete lack of enthusiasm. He got the distinct impression that no one particularly wanted him there, but he shrugged it off.

He filled in all the proper paperwork, took possession of his identity card and key card, shopped for cleaning products and cleaned the main Hub. Just clearing out the fridge took him over an hour, there were things in there that looked like they were almost evolved enough to be sentient! How had these people survived for so long? The piles of dirty dishes seemed endless, but he pulled on his rubber gloves and ploughed through them all, leaving them sparkling in freshly cleaned cupboards.

Oh, and he also made coffee. A lot of coffee.

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On his second day, Ianto was introduced to the Weevil in the cells (what kind of name was Janet?) and the other temporary and permanent residents. He was instructed on how to care for them all and left to get on with it. When he'd done that, he cleaned the Hub, fed the team and periodically made more coffee. Apparently, he was now the primary carer for all living beings in the Hub, including the team.

Ah well. Could be worse.

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On his third day, after cleaning out and feeding the Hub's various residents, Ianto was ordered to report to Tosh for instruction in the use of Torchwood three's semi-organic, semi-sentient computer system. He was issued his own password and spent a very enjoyable morning learning from the quiet tech genius. He found he rather liked Tosh, which was going to complicate things in the long run. He couldn't afford to get too friendly.

After providing lunch for the team and clearing up the dirty dishes, he cleaned the Hub, picked up more cleaning supplies and other necessities, and made more coffee. The team would probably grind to a halt without a regular supply of caffeine, he reflected.

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On his fourth day, after caring for the residents, Ianto was hauled down to the firing range by Jack for firearms training, which proved to be an interesting few hours and involved a lot of groping on Jack's part. Ianto's parts didn't mind at all, in fact they were quite enthusiastic.

After cleaning the guns, and… other things, Ianto fed the team, cleaned the Hub, made coffee… Well, you get the picture.

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On his fifth day, Ianto took care of the residents, had his second firearms training session (Jack was favourably impressed with what he'd learned), cleaned the Hub, fed the team, and made copious amounts of coffee. He spent most of the afternoon cleaning the autopsy bay after Owen's latest autopsy subject exploded unexpectedly. Ianto could have told Owen it would do that, but no one asked him. Anyway, the sight of Owen covered from head to toe in pink slime was well worth the extra work.

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On his sixth day, Ianto carried out all his usual work, spent time on the firing range, thoroughly cleaned the SUV inside and out, and drove it to the nearest petrol station to fill the tank, which was almost empty. It was a good thing they hadn't had to deal with an unexpected Rift alert. He briefly considered suggesting to Jack that they get a couple of foldaway bicycles in case of emergencies, but decided against it.

Back at the Hub, he fixed a broken hinge on Jack's office door, put away Jack's dry cleaning, and stoked the furnace. It was all in a day's work for Torchwood Three's General Support officer.

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On Ianto's seventh day, Jack took it upon himself to introduce him to the Torchwood Three archives.

Ianto took one look and his heart sank into his shiny shoes. With a heavy sigh, he rolled up his sleeves and waded in.

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The End


End file.
